The Girl They Sold to the Moon (10 page)

Candy slapped her pastes from her breasts and fanned herself. Turning around to hide her front, she stooped and tore at the rope thong, shoving it down over her knees. She threw her head back and let out a piercing scream. Trying to step out of the rope, it snagged on a heel spike. She tumbled to the floor and rolled onto her back. Now she presented the audience with a wide-legged spread, trying to kick the garment off her foot. The men went berserk and rushed toward the stage to get a better look at the stripper who had just fallen on her back and hiked her legs in the air, giving them the best crotch shot they had ever seen. Candy's legs formed a perfect V for victory sign.

Before anyone knew what was wrong with the entertainer, Candy crawled off the stage, her buttocks shimmying, breasts wobbling.

Sue Lin stood up. “Will you look at that!”

Tilly's laugh burst like a broken dam. Tears came to her eyes. She tried to stifle the outburst, but failed miserably. Sue Lin caught on to the humor of the moment and let out her own cackles. Buddy brushed through the curtains a moment later. As he hurried to his mark in the middle of the stage, he looked over his shoulder. Tilly thought she could see him battling to hold his laughter. But when he turned toward the audience, he had a surprised, wide-open smile plastered across his face.

Sue Lin made a move toward the exit. “Maybe I should see what…” Then she paused, looked at Tilly. “Wait a minute. Fuck her. She has a coach—let
her
take care of it.”

Tilly wiped a tear and took on a serious expression. “Yep, technically she's not your student.” She could hear a scream coming from the direction of the lift room. Then a wailing sound rose in pitch and faded.

Comprehension came to Sue Lin's face. “If this is serious you might have to fill in for at least an hour. Are you prepared?”

“Hey, the show must go on.” She gave Sue Lin an on-the-spot itinerary for the one-hour set then headed to wardrobe. With a sadistic glee, she made a quick change out into a skimpy costume and donned some veils. She trotted to the lift. When her musique came, she burst out of the curtains and onto the stage, dancing her own version of “Bandolero.” This time, nearly the entire audience rose from their seats. Beverages were lifted into the air as toasts. At the end of the number, she stripped down to pastes and a bikini bottom that lit up with tiny LED lights. She did a hand-walk across the stage under a rain of gold and silver coins.

Not only had she forced Candy Evans off the stage, but had insulted her further by taking her headliner spot and stealing her song. It felt
great
to cause so much damage with so little effort. Candy Cane Evans would rue the day she ever crossed Ms. Breedlove.
This newbie bites back, bitch
. The next few days would be gala of surprise and enlightenment, finding out just how a person with such a huge ego could recover from such a gross humiliation.

At the three-month mark at Tranquility Harbor, Tilly had her own headliner act, having worked it for the past 30-days. Tilly's first hour consisted of her popular dance routines, while the second hour gave her a chance to stretch her voice. Her favorite ballads came from her contemporary list, Debby Watkins, Joel Tribune, and Destiny Lover. She sang some of the old standards by Mariah Carey, Brittany Spears, Pink, Gwen Stephani, and some of the old-time favorites from Cher. Her total tip earnings amounted to just over $21,000.

Tilly had been called in twice for suspected pranks, but lacking proof of misconduct, Abigail Rogers had no grounds to issue further demerit slips. Candy caught a slip for deliberately tripping Tilly on one of the foot trams. Witnesses and security footage made the claim stick. Then a brief time elapsed when nothing had happened.

Dorothy walked into the dormitory just as Tilly opened a file on her Omnicomp, revealing her father's second letter to her. Tilly patted the seat next to her and began to read.

“Dearest Tilly,

I hope this electric mail message finds you well, happy and fit. I still have no idea where they're hiding you. I've tried some different channels in the hope that I might know where you ended up. That means I just asked around. Nothing illegal, mind you.”

“He had to say that because of the sensors,” said Tilly.

Dorothy nodded. Tilly resumed:

“Quite a few of your chums have come by and asked about you. I stuck to our plan and told them about the finishing school and the rich uncle. They seemed satisfied with that, so I don't think your cover is blown. I told you I'd cover your tracks.

“Anyway, things are looking very good with the investments. I'm showing some decent profit already. These products are very groundbreaking and ahead of their time. Just recently, I've checked into exporting large shipments of these goods to some of the larger corporations in Europe and Asia. My financial manager is lining up some of these deals. Yes, I said I had a manager! Can you believe it? If it wasn't for his low commission, I don't think I would have ever taken him on. He's worth every penny of it, offers great advice and seems to really care that we turn this venture into a whopping enterprise. The sky is the limit, they say. Maybe we could have a little piece of the sky too. I've had Hawaii on my mind for the past month. But I won't say why, hee, hee.

“I'll shut up for now. I have a board meeting coming up. Keep it tight—keep it right, princess.

Love,

Dad.”

Dorothy gave Tilly a hug and said, “Imagine that? It sounds like you'll be going home to fame and fortune! Gosh, did you ever think it would end like this? Just imagine the opportunities that will open up to you. And Hawaii! The most I've ever seen of Hawaii is on the Universal Internet and a few old post cards. You have to promise me that when my term is served, you'll invite me to your new home. I'll bet the beaches are loaded with hunky surfers.”

Tilly smiled and hugged her back. “That's a promise. When I move you're invited to stay for as long as you like. Hawaii wouldn't be any fun at all if I couldn't share it with a best friend.”

“Aw, you're just saying that. But I'll take you up on it!”

Tilly did not tell Dorothy what she thought her real chances were of landing on the shores of Hawaii. Her father had never had a head for business, especially high finance that involved huge corporations and overseas transactions. She had doubts that he had discovered some revolutionary new product that was going to take the world by storm. Not in this economy, where every businessman and investor was gun shy about making profits and there wasn't enough money circulating through the banking sector to set up a hotdog stand. Never mind consumer optimism, which was at an all time low. This letter was padded, punched up to make her feel like they had the world by the balls. False promises and bullshit lies. Tilly could feel it down to the marrow of her bones. But she could not let on. Doing so would be like taking a sharp stick and poking it in Dorothy's eyes—eyes that saw only hope.

Tilly suggested they shower and go to the park, since Tilly had the day off and Dorothy had picked up two days of sick leave for a sprained wrist. Stripped down, they entered the large tiled shower room, taking separate stalls. Tilly lathered up, still thinking about her father's letter, listening to Dorothy talk about something over the water spray. She heard a “Hey, there!” behind her, and turned.

Fia ruffled up her blond mane with a towel, still wet from exiting the shower. “What's doing, girl?”

“Talking to shop steward, Fia, at the moment. What's up?”

“Just finished up the beauty treatment and headin' on out of here for a ward hearing.”

“You look great.”

“Don't kid yourself; I'm only trying to keep this sack of meat from turning a sickly gray color. Age is a bitch. Sure ain't anything in my reflection to admire anymore. By the way, that's a cute tattoo on your left cheek. What the heck is it?”

“It's a blob with a curved neck that looks like a swan. It's a birthmark.”

“Oh, really. I…thought it was a tat.”

“Fia, where I come from, I couldn't afford to get a real tattoo.”

Fia gave her a curious look. “Funny, neither could I. I'll see you.”

“Yeah, later. Hey, we were going to take a walk to the park and thought you…” Tilly let her words trail off once she realized Fia had left. She sang a few stanzas from a new song she was working on. She heard Dorothy rattling on about something, asking questions and giving herself answers. When they finished showering, they changed out. Refreshed, they stepped out into the corridor, walked up a ramp and mounted a foot tram.

Arriving at the rotunda, they began to walk through the maze of shops and businesses. Not surprisingly, most of the people recognized Tilly and stopped her with conversation or autograph requests. Many of the franchise owners did not work for United Western Mining, but they had seen her act during their off hours. The new headliner behaved with a gracious reserve, attempting to accommodate their wishes. But she had to break it off since she really wanted to visit the park. Several people offered to give her and Dorothy rides but Tilly refused the offers. They continued on their way.

“I've never had this much attention before,” said Dorothy. “It's all because of you, and I don't mind that at all.”

“I'm beginning to see the downsides.”

“Ignore the downsides. Soak up the good stuff.”

Dorothy, a never-ending supply of optimism, began to make sense and offer Tilly a different view of what she'd been feeling and seeing lately. After landing in a negative situation, she had to admit that not only had things improved for her, but they had surpassed all expectations. She'd never dreamed of being rewarded so handsomely for something she enjoyed doing. Yet she possessed the underlying feeling that FTALC and the mining company were still enemies and not to be trusted.

After a long walk, the park came into view, showing walnut trees, some elms and a few oaks. The trees and root systems had been packaged and transported on board the large transport freighters. Gray slate walkways meandered through the interior. The park sat near the geographic center of the main rotunda, small by normal standards, occupying less than nine acres. It had a large pond stocked with bluegill and carp—the heartiest fishes that could survive in such an environment. “NO FISHING” signs warned those who thought about casting a line in the water. The lawn, which had suffered from repeated foot traffic, grew stubby in irregular patches. At least the lawn was organic.

The capacity of the park seemed overcrowded, in Tilly's opinion. Nearly all of the benches and picnic tables were occupied by every type of employee at Tranquility Harbor. The miners dominated most of the seats and benches. They played cards, drank, lounged and snoozed under the trees. A rumor said that over 50 cardinals and blue jays flew amongst the treetops, having been imported by the company. Tilly had not seen any birds, and supposed they might have flown to some other part of the complex or had been sucked into the massive air intakes.

A small group of people left a table. Dorothy took Tilly's hand and ran to it. They sat down on the thin bench seats and looked around, admiring the view. Tilly saw a large group of men surrounding a table. She wondered what they were looking at, unable to see between or over them. A few of the men turned and made eye contact with her, and then peeled off from the group. They headed in Tilly's direction, which made her frown. “There goes the peace and quiet.”

“Not such a bad thing,” said Dorothy. “At least we're stealing Candy's thunder. That'll nip her in the ass real good.”

“What do you mean we're stealing Candy's…” Then Tilly saw the reason for the crowd. Candy knelt on a table, twisting in provocative poses for several cameras.

“Hey, look, it's Sunshine!” cried a crowd member.

A few more admirers left Candy's circle, headed in Tilly's direction. After a few minutes, it became a mass exodus except for a few diehard Candy Evans groupies.

A miner with a crooked handlebar mustache said, “Yo, honey, what brings your little doodletwat to this neck of the woods? Mind if we join y'all?”

“I'm a leg man, myself,” proclaimed another, licking his lips.

Surrounded by a wall of smelly, obnoxious flesh, Tilly saw no way out of the predicament. Two men sat down, hemming her in between them. Three sat opposite her, expelling Dorothy from her seat. Everybody spoke at the same time, rolling over each other's words. A man with yellow teeth and eyes pinched Tilly's upper arm and said, “Looks lean but it feels
mean
.”

“It's really nice that you're all here and everything,” Tilly tried, “but I just came to the park to be alone with my girlfriend.”

“Now don't be telling us you swing that way,” said an obese man, wearing smelly coveralls. “We know better than that, 'specially the way you swing that can in our faces.”

Tilly did not need a confrontation right now. For that matter, she didn't need a full-out sexual assault either. These men regarded her as a tease, not the willing sexual toy that Candy portrayed herself to be. For the first time since her arrival there came a sense of immediate danger. There wasn't a security cop in sight.

Tilly had not protested when the man had pinched her arm. It sent a signal to the others that touching might be okay. She felt the stroke of her hair from behind. A hand landed on her thigh. Tilly lurched up, just missing a lunge for her breasts. Surrounded, she stepped up on the table top, prepared to kick the next man in the face who tried to grope or grab. Dorothy squeezed through the crowd and tried to shove the men away from the table. They pushed her outside their ring. Tilly watched Dorothy run toward the business district, leaving her alone and surrounded.

“I don't want any trouble,” warned Tilly, bracing herself for a rush. She noticed someone smaller, fighting their way through the crowd.